A Boyfriend Free Occurrence
by Ermekthepickle
Summary: Christian Weston Chandler, who has finally come out of the closet, is offered a chance to lose his dog-gone virginity. Will his Love Quest come to fruition, or will the Man in the Pickle Suit kick him in the balls again?


**A Boyfriend-free Occurrence**

**By Ermekthepickle**

****tl;dr: this is a strange crossover between Christian Weston Chandler's _Sonichu _and Fyodor Dostoyevsky's _Crime and Punishment_. It's stupid, I know. It was done as part of a dare/joke.

Critiques are much loved though. As someone who is much more used to writing original fiction and academic essays, I find it very difficult to keep other people's characters in-character.

Warning: there will be gay sex scenes later on. Also, everything (including how Rodya got to Ruckserville, Virginia) is going to be explained.

**HAVE FUN READING THIS CRAP.  
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><p>At the beginning of May, a certain young man went up to the blubber beast's lair; yes, the very fanartist-cum-vlogger of a blubber beast the Internet lumberjack had sired almost three decades ago. As the stranger sneaked up into the manchild's room, he could not help but notice the music room in the north corner of the first floor, the domain of Barbara Chandler, the hambeast's coddling cow of a mother. The young man breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed she was asleep; he knew the matriarch of the house of Chandler was paranoid about outsiders, especially a foreigner such as himself (at least he was white). Not that he was particularly timid-quite the opposite, actually. However, he had recently been in a constant state of anxiety and self-absorption. Ever since meeting Christian Weston Chandler, he had been both tormented and fascinated by the greasy autistic man with the ample bosoms. His personal interests and studies no longer concerned him; only the virginal Virginian concerned him. No paranoid old woman would be able to stop him from reaching Chris-chan, even if she called him a "goddamned commie" or told him to "git your black ass outta here" (he had never really gotten the hang of southern American English, really).<p>

As he approached Chris' room in the northern corner of the second floor, he noticed the filthy bathroom across the hallway, which seemed to have not been cleaned in years, as implied by the greenish-brown mold growing in the shower. The young man shuddered and an emotion of a most profound revulsion flickered in his features. Here, let us pause to observe this individual's lovely physical appearance. With his beautiful dark eyes and soft chestnut hair, he was taller than average and athletically built. His chest was wide and, to the narrator's dismay, perfectly flat. Taking a deep breath, he then approached the manbaby's door and politely knocked.

A few seconds later, a loud, high-pitched, almost feminine voice could be heard screaming from behind the door, "WAIT, I'll-I'll be there…in-in a sec. I'm workin' on it! I was making a YouTube vi—uh, a vid-dya for YouTube t-tellin' er'rybody that I'm a, um, I f-finished my Love Quest. Y'know, Rawd-yah."

Something then apparently fell down and a sharp shriek emerged from the vocal chords of the deranged vlogger, which was followed by a long, melancholy sigh. "Rawd-yah" could no longer afford to wait, so he opened the door and waltzed into the toy-covered den of the virgin with rage. The obese 29 year old high-functioning autistic virgin stood in front of him, looking at him questioningly. Standing in front of his life upgrade, the PS3, the famous creator of Sonichu was entirely naked. His greasy brown hair was tousled and his eyeshadow-caked vapid blue eyes (really, both of his eyes were the same colour) gazed at the newcomer expectantly.

"My name's Rodion Romanych Raskolnikov, I'm a university student, and I met you online a couple of weeks ago," the slim young man muttered hastily, bowing slightly because he was so shocked to see the other man in such a state.

"I remember. I mean, r-re-remember our AIM date? I saw your picture on the In'ernet. You're not a troll, are ya? By the way, Silent Hill w-was a good movie. I-I kind of felt like D-Daria when I was watchin' it. Anehways, uh, let's go to—let's hit, uh, the hay. I've g-got some virginity ta lose!" Here the autist giggled, before sitting down on the bed and continuing. "I-I…remember the time when I thought of a hi-fu-funny message for a Valentine's Day card. On the outside, 'Please be Mine' and, uh, on the inside, 'My hormones are slam-bangin', and, uh, I do not have a man to put them in.'" At this point, the manchild's dull eyes had wandered to Rodya's crotch and a maddeningly strange smile had forced its way on his face.

The older man was silent for a while, as though he was suddenly sucked back into his fantasy world of CWCville. With a sigh, the disgruntled university student approached the manchild and sat down beside him. This was turning out to be more awkward than he could've possibly imagined. Christopher Christian Weston Chandler was indeed the most pathetic human being he had ever had the chance to meet, much worse than the average sheep. Not only was his mind infested with crap from American mass media, but his social skills and academic achievements were also a complete joke. Now, Rodya had never been very outgoing and even was a bit of a hypochondriac, but…this. Christian Robertovich took the cake in terms of awkwardness. No wonder he was going to die alone in VIRGINia. If human beings were indeed separated into two categories: a lower one (that is, that of the ordinary), and another group of people who were capable of _actually _contributing to society, allowing it to progress, Chris-chan was to have no caste. Nyet, nope, iie, nada. Like a casteless Indian _dalit_, Chris would not even have the right to be in the former category, mediocre as it was. Jeez, Rodya thought, the man was only 29, yet he was already balding and physically resembled a 45 year old. Why were there so many things wrong with this man? Hey, he was a virgin too, but he never went around publicizing this rather embarrassing fact.

Suddenly, the manchild turned around and looked at Rodya sternly. "You're a DANG DIRTY HOMO!" he suddenly shrieked. "I told MYSELF TO STAY STRAIGHT! UGH! I'm not trustin' any homos o'er here! Get out! GET OUT! You're gonna burn in HELL!"

The Russian just stared at the hysterical manbaby unbelievingly. How could a 5 foot 10, 220 pound man of normal intelligence act like this? Was this a specifically American phenomenon? Autism itself was not the sole cause, that was for sure. His enabling parents had indeed influenced his thought patterns, rendering it incredibly difficult for him to process outside information and make his own decisions. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.

Suddenly, Chris grabbed Rodya by the wrist and wrenched it towards him, hurting the other man in the process. Rodya, now extremely frightened by the raging hambeast's proximity, flinched and tried to back away, but the heavier of the two men pinned him down onto the bed before hollering, "Rawd-yah, Ahm sorry! It's okay to be gay! Ah mean, don't hurt me; don't leave me…you're all I, uh, have. I mean, _take me_, Rawd-yah. I dun wanna be a virgin with rage no more! My Love Quest needs to end before I can face the….the Adult Chornicles and Count Graduon. I mean, I ne'er gotta finish Sawn'chu the comic…book, but lookit y-you." Here Chris sighed, looking very tired already.

Rodya just grimaced at the exhausted pile of useless flesh lying on top of him. If those tits (they were C cup _at least_) rubbing against the thin cloth covering his chest had belonged to a woman, boy would he have been turned on by this shit. Instead, he was looking at a complete waste of oxygen, God's biggest mistake. Yes, Chris was disgusting, but he had come here for a reason. If superior beings like Napoleon could get away with killing to achieve their goals, why couldn't he fuck Chris-chan (without puking) to achieve his objective? _C'est très simple._


End file.
